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Alexei stays silent.

When I look at him, his face has gone harder. “You don’t believe it,” I say.

His eyes meet mine. “I no longer believe in coincidences.”

“Alexei,” I begin, though I don’t know whether I mean to reassure him or stop him from saying the fear already forming inside me.

“You nearly died yesterday,” he says, his voice low and controlled in a way that makes the words hit harder. “I won’t ignore anything that could place you or the baby at risk.”

The fear from yesterday still lives behind his eyes, and the same fear lives inside me. I reach for his hand because I need the contact, and he takes it, closing his fingers around mine.

Whatever comes next, we’ll face it together.

By late afternoon, cabin fever has officially won.

Alexei argues that a full day of rest would be beneficial while standing in the foyer like a very handsome, very unreasonable wall. Mama agrees with him while adjusting the strap of her purse. That means I spend the better part of twenty minutes being outnumbered by people who love me, which is sweet in theory and deeply inconvenient in practice.

“I’m not made for bed rest,” I inform them, lifting my chin even though my throat still aches and my body feels like it got dragged behind a truck.

Alexei’s mouth flattens as he looks at the purse hanging from my shoulder. “That’s not happening.”

“And I appreciate everybody worryin’ about me,” I say, keeping my voice as reasonable as possible, “but the shelter needs me.”

Mama plants her hands on her hips. “The shelter has volunteers.”

“Jules is there,” I point out.

Mama snorts, which is not exactly helpful. “Baby, that boy is currently runnin’ on caffeine, stubbornness, and pure spite.”

“Exactly.” I gesture toward Mama as if she has just proven my case. “Which means somebody responsible needs to be there.”

Alexei’s gaze narrows. “You’re implying Jules is irresponsible.”

“I’m implyin’ Jules once attempted to climb a ladder while sufferin’ from vertigo because a kitten climbed onto the storage shelves and refused to come down.”

Mama shakes her head with a sigh. “Lord, he really did do that.”

Alexei exhales slowly, the look on his face making it obvious he’s already lost this battle and dislikes knowing it. He steps closer and gently removes the purse strap from my shoulder before handing it to Luka, who stands near the door pretending not to listen.

“You won’t overexert yourself,” Alexei instructs.

“I won’t,” I promise, even though he looks unconvinced.

“You won’t lift anything.”

“I won’t.”

“You’ll sit down if you become tired.”

I smile sweetly and reach up to straighten the collar of his shirt, mostly because touching him makes the worry in his face ease. “Yes, sir.”

His eyes lower to my mouth for half a heartbeat before returning to mine. “You say that as though you intend to obey.”

“I intend to try.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“No,” I agree, patting his chest. “But it’s honest.”